


something that i'm supposed to be

by cosmicocean



Category: Dirk Gently's Holistic Detective Agency (TV 2016)
Genre: Angst, F/F, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Humor, M/M, Miscommunication, not just for this fandom, this is probably the fluffiest thing I've ever written
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-21
Updated: 2017-05-21
Packaged: 2018-11-03 08:28:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 16,392
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10963482
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cosmicocean/pseuds/cosmicocean
Summary: Todd would like to say he doesn’t even blink when Dirk shows up to the offices with hair that matches his bright yellow jacket. But he does blink. Several times. With vigor, like maybe doing it insistently will make the image swim into something a little more normal.Written for the Dirk Gently Beginner Bang 2017.





	something that i'm supposed to be

**Author's Note:**

> (Prompt # could not be found on the prompt spreadsheet, but it was about Dirk discovering hair chalk)
> 
> As always, my thank yous to princessparadoxical on tumblr, who cannot be tagged as a co-author because she doesn't have an account on here, but is my co-author in all my DG fics.

Todd would like to say he doesn’t even blink when Dirk shows up to the offices with hair that matches his bright yellow jacket. But he does blink. Several times. With vigor, like maybe doing it insistently will make the image swim into something a little more normal.

Blinking does not fix it, and when Dirk notices Todd staring at him, he beams like he always does when he sees Todd in the mornings.

“Hello, Todd!” He always says it like he’s vaguely expecting someone else to have been sitting there, and is surprised but delighted to see that it’s him.

“Hey, Dirk.” Todd can’t take his eyes off Dirk’s normally auburn hair. “What’s up?” 

“Well, the sky, traditionally. Although perhaps not always.”

“Your hair’s also up.”

Dirk frowns. “I mean, I suppose technically. It’s up from the rest of me.” 

Todd gives up being oblique about it. “Dirk, your hair’s bright yellow.”

“Oh, _that_.” Dirk sits behind his desk. It’s technically their desk, but Todd likes sitting at the small table up against the wall better than the big mahogany desk that Dirk bought. He tends to only sit behind it when clients visit the office. “Well, your sister came over to my apartment last night, she’s in town and stayed over.”

“I know.” Amanda and Todd have moved tentatively past “truce” and into “approaching friendship”. It’s not “sibling relationship” again, but it’s more than Todd deserves. They’d met for coffee yesterday afternoon. She’d updated him on what she was up to with the Rowdy Three and he’d told her about the cases they’d been taking on. Todd feels a sudden weird lurching feeling in his stomach when he registers that “last night” and “stayed over” have places in that sentence. “What did you guys, uh, what did you guys do?”

“Oh, all sorts of things.” Dirk puts his feet up on the desk. “Your sister is brilliant, you know, she’s rather fantastic.”

His stomach insists on continuing to lurch. “So you keep on saying.”

“For someone with a punk rock chic air going on, she has a rather large love of musicals. We ended up watching them until I fell asleep. I’ll have to find out if Don and Kathy get together in the end some other time.”

Todd’s stomach stills and relief blossoms in it. He tries not to let it show on his face or in his voice. “That doesn’t explain why your hair’s yellow.”

“Oh, yes. Well, she introduced me to this thing called hair chalk, and she thought it might look good matching my jacket. Hair chalk seems wonderful, it’s-“

“I know what it is.” Amanda loves hair chalk. Before the pararibulitis hit, her hair was a different color every day. She’s starting to experiment with streaks in it again, but with dye this time.

“Oh, good. I think this might be a new trend for me, I like having funny hair. Maybe I can use it to match all my jackets!”

Todd has a system for picking his battles with Dirk. Dirk’s astonishingly exuberant about almost everything and has a tendency to rush into danger because of it. Todd’s got a vested interest in seeing him alive (“Like all friends do,” he insists sometimes to the voice in the back of his head that sounds suspiciously like Amanda. “This is the kind of normal that one is supposed to experience with friends. Totally normal kind of vested.” “Sure it is, big bro,” his sister’s voice generally answers), so there are some battles he has to have. Dirk changing his hair does not fall into that category. Dirk is a grown man capable of making his own decisions, no matter how many startlingly bright colors those decisions may result in.

Besides, Dirk’s grin is bright and infectious the way it gets whenever there’s a non-threatening situation. His grin gets no less bright when there’s a _threatening_ situation, to be fair, but Todd finds it considerably less infectious then.

Todd tries to swallow his returning smile but he suspects he does a poor job. “Pass me that paperwork, would you,” he says, instead of anything else about Dirk’s hair.

 

So the thing is, Todd may be a tiny bit little bit minuscule bit absolutely and completely really very a lot into Dirk.

He’s not sure when it happened, really. When Dirk crossed the line from “annoying” to “endearing”. He can still be annoying, of course, and Todd still wants to strangle him some of the time. But now when Dirk grins during a case, Todd’s heart does a peculiar thing that is completely different to the peculiar thing it does when Dirk grins because they’re about to run headfirst into danger. Sometimes the peculiar things happen at the same time. Todd wonders if he should get his heart checked out.

Todd can’t help but grin sometimes at the rapid fire way Dirk talks sometimes, the way he can never seem to keep still when he’s out in public, but can be remarkably still and serene when it’s just him and Todd. That means the world to him, surprisingly, that Dirk will settle around him.

He’s still an irritating and occasionally smug bastard, but these days, he’s Todd’s irritating and occasionally smug bastard.

Except, of course, Todd has to remind himself, except for the part where he’s not Todd’s anything. And he’s not going to _be_ Todd’s anything, because Todd is going to employ his favorite tack when it comes to emotions, namely “pretend you don’t have them and then they die with you”.

Because Dirk might be a bit of a bastard sometimes. Sometimes unrepentantly, sometimes not. But he still can be a bit of a bastard.

But Todd can be more of a bastard than Dirk can, and an asshole to boot. Their bastard levels don’t even compare. Dirk is on the charts, whereas Todd has rocketed so far off the charts he is through the roof. Whatever Dirk says, however he tries to spin it, Todd’s worse than Dirk is. So he’s not going to even try to inflict that on Dirk. However badly he may want to, when he’s feeling particularly selfish.

Not to mention that Dirk might not even be available to be Todd’s… something. He might be Amanda’s something. Todd doesn’t know for sure. He hasn’t actually seen them together since the breakout. But he knows they text constantly, and that usually when she comes to visit when she’s not palling around with the Rowdy Three, Amanda stays with Dirk. So Todd could be completely out of the picture here, even if he’d allowed himself to be in the picture.

He spends a lot of time resolutely not thinking about the picture.

 

The next day, Dirk comes in with green hair to match the jacket. The day after that, blue. That’s the run of his jackets, and Todd’s pretty sure that’s going to be the end of it. He’s proven wrong when he walks into the offices to see Dirk in a brilliantly orange jacket with flame colored hair to match, surveying a map. He looks up and smiles widely.

“Ah, hello, Todd! Come take a look at this, I think I figured out where we’re supposed to  go.”

Todd’s still for a moment, looking at the carefully combed orange peels sitting on top of Dirk’s head. Then gives in and heads over to look at the map with him. At least if they end up in the woods again, he reasons, no hunter will mistake them for a deer and shoot them.

 

“I think pink is my color,” Dirk tells him that Monday. He’s got a mirror propped up and is managing to adjust both his hair and his jacket in it at the same time. Todd’s not sure where he procured the mirror from.

“It’s a very pink kind of pink,” Todd observes, fairly mildly he thinks. It’s not quite hot pink, but it’s close.

“I thought so.”

Dirk’s got a smear of color on his cheek he has somehow missed in his mirror inspection. Todd doesn’t care what shade his hair is, but he’s pretty sure it’s not professional to potentially greet clients with a smudge of pink on one’s face. He’s not noticing it, so he sighs.

“Stand still.”

Dirk looks up from a bit of hair that evidently refuses to stay where it should and blinks. “What? Why?”

“Just-“ Todd gets out of his chair and takes Dirk’s chin in his hand, turning his face to the side slightly so he could see the smudge better. Dirk immediately obeys him and becomes motionless. Todd wipes the chalk from his cheek, removing his hand from his chin. “There. Didn’t want you gesticulating too wildly and hitting me.”

“I never gesticulate _too_ wildly,” Dirk corrects him loftily. “I gesticulate precisely as much as is required for the situation at hand.”

“Oh, do you?” 

“I do.” 

“Bullshit.”

“Well. Maybe a little.”

Todd snorts, grinning a little and Dirk’s smile softens and turns into something that’s like a smile, but not quite. Todd’s pretty sure smiles don’t glow like that. He’s certainly never seen one that does, anyway, except for on Dirk. Maybe it’s specific to him.

Dirk’s a lot closer than Todd had thought previously. Todd’s not touching him, but somehow Todd feels like he can feel how warm Dirk is, and like if he shuffled a little closer and pressed up against him, he’d feel even warmer, maybe even the right amount. His face is tilted up ever so slightly so he can look Dirk in the eye. The air is charged with something Todd can’t put his finger on, but can feel tingling in his palms, like the aftereffects of getting zapped when working with his guitar. He opens his mouth to say something to Dirk, even though he doesn’t know what.

There’s a knock on the door that seems hesitant, but is all at once too loud in the nearly sacred silence. Todd jumps and trips backwards over Dirk’s chair while Dirk flails back into the wall, managing to smack the mirror over but somehow not break it.

The door opens and a young woman sticks her head through tentatively. “Is everything okay?” she asks, a little nervously.

“Yep.” Todd rights himself, climbing back to his feet, hoisting himself up by the arm of the chair he’d just collapsed over. He feels disappointed and a touch annoyed with the woman, but he rigorously keeps it out of his voice, albeit more for Dirk’s benefit so he doesn’t know anything’s wrong or weird or full of feelings Todd’s desperately trying to pretend he doesn’t have than for the woman’s. “Everything’s great.”

“Never better,” Dirk agrees, pushing himself off the wall with a bit of a wince. “Tip-top. World class.” He bends over and puts the mirror back on the desk. “Dirk Gently’s Holistic Detective Agency, missing cats and messy divorces a speciality.” He won’t take that last part out of his introduction no matter how often Todd asks. “How may we assist you?”

 

They have a handful of different clients in the next week, all fairly easily solvable cases, taken care of in the span of a day. The clients always stare at Dirk’s hair, a new color every time, seeming perturbed. Dirk never shows signs of noticing, although Todd suspects Dirk to be considerably sneakier than he lets on, so whether or not he _actually_ notices is up in the air. Todd derives a weird sort of amusement from remaining straight faced and serious when meeting the first three, like there is nothing remotely out of the ordinary about the two people in front of them.

(he supposes in a way, that’s what he’s doing every time they meet with someone, but this time it’s just really obvious that there’s something not quite normal about them)

By number four, however, the amusement is gone. In place of it being entertaining is a weird kind of protectiveness that leads him to glare at the clients, practically daring them to say something. Numbers four and five must take the hint, because they say nothing.

Number five’s case means they have to break into a house, something that Dirk seems entirely too enthusiastic about. Not for the first time, Todd wonders if Dirk interprets “detective” as meaning “lawful good criminal”. He walks through the halls of the suburban house with the fascination of an archaeologist discovering a lost city and trying to figure out what possibly meant which.

“Did you ever want one of these?” he asks while Todd looks through the papers on the desk of this guy to see if they’ve got the one they’re looking for.

“A desk?” Todd mutters absently. 

“No. A house.”

“Oh.” Todd shrugs, lifting up the books on the desk. Nothing. “I mean, I guess at one point, maybe. When we had Mexican Funeral, we talked about making a ton of money and getting mansions, but that was really just an empty dream, I guess.”

Dirk nods thoughtfully. 

“What about you?”

“Oh, I never thought that far ahead about the future.” 

Todd pauses, looking at Dirk. “Why not?”

“Well, when I was There-“ and Dirk never refers to Blackwing by name, it’s always There, a word carrying such a weight it deserves the capital letter at the beginning. “I didn’t _really_ expect to ever get out. And then I did the first time around, but I didn’t have a particularly large sum of money, so all my future goals were ‘be a detective’ and ‘have clothes on my back’ and ‘food to eat’.”

“Not apartment?”

Dirk waves a dismissive hand. “That’s what alleys and outside stairs were for. ‘Apartment’ was one of the two things out in the future that seemed too far away and unattainable for a while, and really that was the most I could hope for. Houses seemed a little ostentatious for things like that.”

“What was the second thing?”

Dirk freezes, then quickly looks away as he looks under the magazines on the TV stand. “Oh, just things.”

Todd stands beside to Dirk as he examines the flier next to the magazines. “You don’t have to tell me.”

Dirk doesn’t stop flipping through the pages of _Men’s Health_. Todd knows if he asked him why the papers they’re looking for would be in a copy of _Men’s Health_ , he would wax on about how anywhere is a possible secret hiding place and about a former case that somehow relates that Todd suspects he’s made up, instead of admitting he’s pretending to look for the papers so he doesn’t have to look at Todd. “I thought friendships were supposed to involve honesty.”

“I mean, yeah. But that doesn’t mean you have to tell me _everything_. You’re not _lying_ to me if you don’t tell me something personal.”

Dirk hesitates. Todd sees his hands still on the magazine. “I want to tell you,” he tells Todd slowly. “But it’s very hard to access… the emotions connected to the words… that I want to make.”

Todd’s not very good at any of this. He has a rough time talking about feelings, and he’s obviously nowhere near a paragon of honesty, and he hasn’t had enough friendships that he hasn’t ruined pretty quickly to know a lot about what he’s supposed to do in these situations.

But he knows he cares about Dirk a pretty ridiculous amount, and he knows that he wants to be as forthright as possible when it comes to shit like this, because the last time they weren’t forthright with each other they fought on a pier and it was one of the shittiest moments of Todd’s life and brought Dirk close to tears, and Todd never wants to see that again. So he fights against the instinctive trepidation that rises and tries to speak honestly.

“You don’t have to tell me… because you don’t have to tell me anything to me about your past before this if you don’t want to. I mean, I kind of want to know if it’s something about your past that might kill us. That would be good. But things just about you, things about your life. That doesn’t matter. I mean, it does matter. But it doesn’t… if you don't tell me, it’s okay. Because I don’t need to know about your past. Because I know you now. And that’s all I need, is to know you now. So we’re okay.”

Todd’s aware that Dirk started staring down at him when he gave his awkward, stilted speech. He can’t quite look at him yet, feeling his cheeks heat up.

“Apartment was the first thing,” Dirk finally says. Todd pulls his gaze from a flier screaming about deals at a supermarket in all caps and looks up at him. Dirk’s face is warm. Todd would call it “tender”, except he won’t, because he’s smarter than that, Dirk wouldn’t look at him tenderly. “Didn’t need to be big. Just needed to exist.” Dirk’s face twitches a little but he plows on. “Having a friend was the second.”

Todd’s heart does something painful, where it twists in a coil that burns with the desire to go through Dirk’s life and punch everyone whose fault that statement is.

“Well,” he answers, impressed by how steady his voice is. “It’s a good thing that you’ve got me now, isn’t it? Even better, I guess. I mean, _best friend_ is better than just a _friend friend_ , right?”

Dirk’s face widens and he breaks into a grin. “Much better,” he agrees. “Infinitely better.”

Todd knew this, logically. Knows it from observational evidence and from occasional aural evidence, hearing Dirk sometimes introduce Todd as his best friend. But something this moment, hearing it right now, is different. It feels like that moment outside the hospital when Todd gave Dirk the Mexican Funeral shirt, like that moment earlier in the week when they were  standing together in the office. It feels fragile and vibrant, like if either of them move the world around them might shatter, or it might get even stronger.

“Hey!”

Dirk and Todd jerk to see the owner of the house, Jacobson, standing in the doorway with a gun pointed at them, eyes wild. Their hands shoot up in the air.

“The _fuck_ are you doing in my house?”

“Nothing,” Todd says quickly at the same time Dirk just as hastily answers “snooping”. They’re really gonna need to agree on an answer to these kinds of questions, and a better one than the ones they just used.

“It’s okay, though,” Dirk adds. “We’re professional snoopers.”

“That doesn’t make this better,” Todd mutters, eyes trained on the gun. They’ve had lots of guns on them at this point, so one would think that they’d have a better plan on how to deal with them, but right now Todd’s objective is “make sure neither Dirk or I get shot but certainly not Dirk” and his idea of a plan can be described as “luck??”, so they are living proof that some people never learn.

“Why not? If we’re doing it _professionally_ , then-“

“Shut the fuck up, both of you!” The gun swivels between them. Jacobson’s hands are shaking, which strikes Todd as pretty fucking bad, because that suggests he could go off at random and decide to take one of them down. “Did that bitch send you? Did she?”

“I don’t know what bitch you’re talking about.” Dirk takes the concept of detective/client privilege seriously, which is very good for business but in this situation possibly very bad for being alive. “Also, have you considered conceivably not referring to women as bitches in scenarios such as this? It seems-“

“Dirk,” Todd says quickly. “Not important right now.” 

“Don’t you think it would be important all the-“

“ _Shut_ _up_!” Jacobson roars again. “I’m not signing those fucking divorce papers, I’ll fucking kill her before-“

Jacobson abruptly drops, unconscious, the gun clattering out of his hands. Todd and Dirk stare down at him, and then look up to see Farah standing there, still holding the gun that she used the butt of to knock Jacobson out.

“Hi, Farah,” Todd says weakly.

“Hi, Todd. Hi, Dirk.” Farah puts her gun back in her holster. “Your hair’s very… aqua.” 

Dirk beams. “Thank you,” he answers, as though it was a compliment rather than an observation.

“You know you guys can put your hands down now, right?”

Todd had forgotten they were up in the first place. He puts them down and sees Dirk do the same thing out of the corner of his eye.

“Who wants to be the one to call the police?” Farah asks Todd. Dirk doesn’t really call the police, because he tends to ramble and annoy them. Police officers have a tendency to be vaguely irked by private detectives anyway, but one calling them up and taking forever to tell them they’ve apprehended a suspect because he wants to know if it feels as fun to turn the lights on in a police car as he thinks don’t make it any better.

“I’ll do it.” Todd’s gotten pretty good at talking to the police. He kind of misses Estevez and Zimmerfield sometimes. They’d been a pain in the ass at the time, but in retrospect they’d been really good cops, and a lot more patient with them than the current round. To be perfectly honest, Todd can hardly blame them.

 

“So how did you know to come here?” Dirk asks Farah when the police are done with them. “Do you have a special radar that knows when we’re in danger? What does it feel like?”

“No. Todd told me where you two would be and that if you weren’t back at the offices, I should meet you guys here.”

Farah’s just gotten back from her trip to South America to visit Lydia. She’d gone down pretty much right after the Blackwing breakout and has been gone ever since. She’s texted considerably consistently with Todd. Farah’s at this point his closest friend. This is of course other than Dirk, but Todd isn’t sure he’d put Dirk in the friend column. There’s not really a column that accommodates Dirk, when one gets down to it. The closest Todd can nail down is “sometimes asshole sometimes not who I kinda need in my life”, but even though doesn’t quite fit the bill.

“Ah, makes sense. Why did you bring the gun, then, if it was just to meet up?” 

“Because Todd told me that it seemed unlikely that you two wouldn’t get into some form of trouble while breaking and entering and that I should be on guard if I came here. Also, I always have a gun.”

“It’s true, she does,” Todd confirms. Farah may be the more reasonable one out of all of them (although Todd would like to think he gets a bid for reasonableness), but she still _is_ one of  them, and that means that she found plenty of trouble on her own visiting Lydia. Todd got to hear the stories. “Hi again, by the way, come here.”

Todd and Farah hug.

“Bring me back anything from South America?” 

“You didn’t ask. But I didn’t bring trouble.”

“I’ll take it.”

The two of them part, still smiling a little. Farah and Dirk hug next. Dirk’s an enthusiastic hugger, and that doesn’t change, but when Farah pulls back he looks at Todd with an odd focus to his eyes.

“Good to see you two getting on,” he observes. 

Todd, feeling a little confused, shrugs. “She’s easy to get on with.”

Farah makes a little huffing noise that indicates she doesn’t buy that. Todd thinks about fighting her on it, then remembers something.

“Hey, don’t we have a client we should maybe get back to?”

 

The next day, Farah and Todd meet Dirk on a street corner to discuss their next case. Todd’s not really sure why a street corner, but Dirk insisted. He shows up in a pinkish sort of jacket with hair that matches pretty damn close. Farah looks up at him from her phone and stares. Todd only glances up from Candy Crush and then goes back to trying to win the game. He only has three moves left.

“Wasn’t your hair pink last week?” he asks. He loses the game, curses, and pockets it. Dirk gives him one of those looks he gets when he thinks something is perfectly obvious and doesn’t understand how Todd doesn’t get it.

“This is salmon, Todd,” he informs him. “Salmon.”

Todd raises an eyebrow and surveys Dirk. Then shrugs. “The color looks good on you.”

When he’d thought about saying it, he’d thought it would come out in a more offhand, casual manner instead of a softer, more sincere way. Internally Todd panics but before he can try and say anything to backtrack on it, which honestly would probably end in Todd floundering into being an asshole and hurting Dirk’s feelings, Dirk’s entire being seems to become sunny, and it distracts him, tongue twisting into keeping his mouth shut.

“Thank you, Todd.”

Todd manages to get a “you’re welcome” out in the face of Dirk’s overwhelming brightness.

Farah clears her throat.

“Right, yes, crime,” Dirk says hastily.

 

The next week passes uneventfully. Farah accompanies them on most of their investigating. Dirk keeps trying to get her to admit she’s one of their detectives, but Farah is stubborn, adamantly insisting that she is their completely normal and average and typical benefactor who happens to be surveying the benefacted to make sure they did in fact deserve the benefaction of her money.

“You say variations on benefact a lot,” Todd observes as he bends down to help Farah out of a secret passage they stumbled upon. Finding secret passages is old hat at this point.

“I like benefact,” Farah snaps, standing on her tiptoes to reach Todd’s hands. “It’s a very satisfactory word.”

“Yeah?” Todd grasps onto her. “What are other satisfactory words?”

Farah narrows her eyes even though her mouth is twitching like she wants to smile. “Because I am well aware that you will use my responses to make fun of me,” she answers, kicking her feet into the soft side of the tunnel so she can climb with her feet while Todd helps pull her up. “I am not going to answer that question.”

“That’s… yeah, that’s fair.”

Todd has assumed that Dirk’s been quiet because he’s been a little weird the past couple days. When he’s been on his own with Todd, he’s been normal (or as normal as Dirk gets). Todd’s asked Farah about it and Dirk’s perfectly normal with her when it’s just the two of them as well. But when the three of them are together, Dirk is a little jumpier and awkward. Todd can read Dirk’s moods pretty well at this point, and he recognizes it as an upset one, but he can’t nail down why.

So when Dirk’s not talking, Todd guesses it’s because he’s looking at the two of them with that face that somehow manages to push forwards both a determined casualness and strange intensity. Todd’s proven incorrect when Farah looks up from landing on solid ground again and freezes. Todd looks over his shoulder and sees a gigantic man with a gun that seems unnecessarily big, Dirk slightly edged in front of the two of them. Lately Dirk’s developed a protection instinct that keeps him from freezing or bolting like he’d done in the past. It seems to act up more when it comes to Todd, which he assumes is because he was one of the first people Dirk saw when they sprung them from Blackwing and he’s got some transference of an idea of a debt in his head. Todd should probably talk to him about that.

Todd’s normally the reasonable one when they’re having a gun pointed at them, out of him and Dirk. If Farah’s there she’s definitely the reasonable one because she’s got a lot more practice than either of them in such situations, but after her? Todd doesn’t mouth off. Todd doesn’t provoke them. Todd is the practical one.

However, he’s been having a gun pointed at him an absurd amount lately. He’s tired of people doing it. Farah hasn’t been here since they’ve been doing all their detecting, but he doesn’t like people pointing them at her, either. He definitely doesn’t like people pointing them at Dirk. The point is, Todd is tired of these assholes who are always pointing a gun at them. And evidently, that means he’s going to run his mouth.

“Are you kidding me right now?” is the demand that Todd hears himself making. Farah looks at him like he’s an idiot. Dirk goes even stiffer in front of him.

The guy with the gun stares at him. “What?”

“You’re not original. None of you are original. Can’t you point like a trebuchet or something at us?”

“Trebuchet would be nice,” Dirk agrees faintly. “Creative.”

“Nothing pointed at us,” Farah attempts to correct. “Nothing pointed at us would be nice.” 

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” The guy demands. “I have a gun pointed at you.”

“It’s a bit big. Are you compensating for anything or what?”

Dirk does look at Todd then, face drawn tight and eyes a little wild. Todd’s not surprised. He guesses this is out of the realm of normal for the two of them, Todd being the one absolutely fucking done with everything. Well. That’s inaccurate. He’s usually absolutely fucking done with everything. He guesses just expressing it out loud in dangerous situations.

“Right,” the big guy snarls. “You’re gonna die first.”

He swivels the gun to point at Todd and cocks it. Todd notices three things at once, suddenly hyper aware.

1: It’s broad daylight out. He’s gonna get shot in broad daylight. These two things seem incongruous somehow.

2: Dirk’s gaze turns somehow even more wild and desperate, mouth opening like he's about to say something. Todd’s got something he wants to say back, he thinks, even if he  doesn’t quite know what it is. If he wasn’t about to get shot before the words would come out, he might figure it out if he just started talking.

3: The squeal of tires.

And he’s not the only one who hears the scream of rubber against the pavement, evidently, because everyone but Farah looks to the side, including the guy with the gun. Farah pushes Todd out of the way into Dirk so she can beat the shit out of the distracted dude. Todd and Dirk tumble to the ground, Todd on top of Dirk and ending up with one of his fists bunched in Dirk’s shirt, the other flat on his chest so he can feel his wildly pounding heartbeat, and one of Dirk’s arms hanging loosely on top of him. They look up at the pavement nearby. It’s a winding road, which is probably why they can hear them before they see them, the van curving from side to side. In addition to the tires, Todd thinks he can hear loud, thundering music. He looks at Dirk. The angle’s a little weird, because Todd’s still on Dirk, so he’s got to angle his head a little farther back. Dirk looks down at him at the same time, however, so it’s not as hard as it would be if he hadn’t.

“Do you think it’s-“ Todd starts. Dirk doesn’t shrug because it looks like it would be hard from the way they’re lying but the sentiment is present when he speaks.

“I assume so.” Todd can see the annoyance in Dirk’s face, but he can’t see any fear in it, which is definite progress. “We can handle things like this on our own, we don’t need their assistance.”

Todd snorts. “ _We_?”

They both look at Farah, who has one boot on the back of the unconscious asshole that had just been threatening them while she examines his gun. They look back at each other.

“Farah,” Dirk corrects himself. “Farah can handle things like this on her own.” There’s a faint grin on Dirk’s face as he says it. It’s a nice change from the frantic expression he’d worn just a few moments ago so Todd can’t help but return with his one of his own.

The tires screech even louder, and Todd and Dirk crane their necks to see the Rowdy Three’s van pull up. Martin leans out of the open window.

“Hey, Icarus!” he hollers. “How goes the tide, little man?”

Dirk and the Rowdy Three had evidently struck up some ceasefire in Blackwing, so the Rowdy Three don’t seem to really frighten him anymore. They certainly, however, irritate him, which Todd is pretty sure is on purpose.

“The tide rolls in and out as it ever does, Martin,” Dirk snaps. “Why, what direction does it go for you?”

Martin grins. “Any way I want it to.”

The thing is, Todd could actually believe that.

“Felt your fear hit new highs just now,” Martin continues. “Making sure you weren’t doing anything stupid.” Todd’s a little surprised. The only thing unusual from the other times they’ve gotten threatened with a gun before was that the guy threatened to shoot Todd first. Nothing worth freaking out over.

“I don’t do stupid things.” This is enough of a lie that even Todd’s incredulous. Dirk scowls, evidently able to tell. “Why d’you care anyway?”

“Well, I wouldn’t, but the little lady might object, ‘specially since you tend to drag her other one into this.” Martin looks over his glasses at them. “You look pretty comfortable, though.”

Todd abruptly becomes aware that he is, for lack of a better word, clutching at Dirk still. It is, he also realizes, not an entirely necessary position for them to have been in the first place. Dirk seems to be hit with this at the same time, because Todd accidentally smacks Dirk in the side of the head and Dirk elbows him in the stomach while they flail to get off each other.

“Ow.”

“Oof.”

Martin cackles as Todd takes a moment to breathe and Dirk stands up rubbing his head a little. Todd accepts Farah’s hand up and smiles at her gratefully. Dirk’s face gains that affected relaxation and acute intensity again and he turns to Martin, probably before he thinks either of them can see. Todd glances at Farah, who shrugs.

“Well, we clearly don’t need you, so, you know-“ he makes a vulgar gesture at Martin. So definitely not scared of him then. Martin doesn’t seem particularly angry or intimidated. Maybe just amused. “On your way.”

“Don’t worry, as soon as we drop drummer girl, we’re sailing smooth again.”

The van door is hauled open and Amanda jumps neatly out, a backpack slung over her shoulder. She turns on her heel so her back’s to the rest of them.

“Thanks, boys!” she calls. “Text me if you’re gonna get yourselves killed.”

There’s sounds of agreement. The van door is heaved shut just as quickly as it was opened, and the van careens off once more. Amanda turns to them and beams.

“Only just convinced them to get a phone so I could keep talking to them. Not entirely sure how they’re paying for it, don’t entirely want to know. Anyway, hey, Dirk!”

“Hi, Amanda!”

The two hug cheerfully. Todd looks away, doing his best to push the ugly snarling thing in his stomach away.

_This is Amanda_ , he reminds himself. _And Dirk. You want them happy more than anything else_.

_Not_ , the ugly thing growls. _Together_.

Todd shoves it down far enough that he can at least pretend he’s dealing with it expertly and not being an asshole when Amanda and Dirk break away. Amanda reaches up and tugs on one of Dirk’s sky-blue locks, again coordinated with his jacket.

“I like this! You stopped sending me pictures, dude, I miss them.”

“I didn’t think you’d want to see them now that I’m recycling colors.”

It’s true. Dirk seems to have hit the maximum on how many colors he’s got, or at least, how many jackets he’s got to match them.

“I _always_ like seeing them.” 

“Aw, thank you.”

Amanda turns to Farah and Todd. She punches Todd in the arm. “Hey, big brother.”

“Hey, Amanda.” They’re definitely not at the hugging stage. But Todd’s sure the punches to his arm are meant to convey affection. Mostly sure. Pretty sure. Maybe sure.

The grin she turns on Farah is even brighter than the one she gave Dirk. “Hi, Farah.” “Hello, Amanda.” 

Farah doesn’t shrink. She’s not a shrinking kind of girl. But there’s  definitely something shy about her. Todd could guess why very easily, even if they’ve never addressed the subject head-on, and the guess he’d have would have a lot to do with the proximity of his sister.

“What happened here?”

“Oh, you know, a man with a rather large gun,” Dirk answers breezily. It’s considerably relaxed for someone who’d been so clearly panicking just a few minutes ago. “Farah took care of it.”

“Of course she did.” Amanda's grin goes up a few notches in power. “Farah’s super  cool.”

Farah looks away quickly, clearly struggling to keep a smile off her face in place of a more neutral expression. “Thanks,” she mumbles.

“So, should we call anyone to come and get this guy? Like, cops or something?”

“Oh, don’t worry about that.” Dirk’s still dismissive. “He’s not the man we’re looking for. He was just worried about his chickens. Perfectly harmless.”

The last part of that statement makes zero sense to Todd, so he decides to ignore it entirely. “He pointed a gun at me.”

Todd thinks he might see a glimpse of a shadow pass across Dirk’s face, but it’s gone just as soon as Todd registers it, and he can’t decide if he imagined it or not. “Yes, but he wasn’t that serious. Trust me, I’ll just leave a Post-It explaining the situation and we’ll be fine.”

Todd’s not sure of that, but he gives in, digging in the pockets of his jacket and handing Dirk a stack of yellow Post-Its and a pen. Dirk looks surprised, so Todd elaborates.

“You’ve needed them the past three cases, I thought I should be prepared this time.” 

Dirk grins. “Thank you, Todd.”

Dirk’s smile is entirely too enthusiastic for someone receiving Post-It notes. Todd feels his cheeks heat up and nods awkwardly.

Farah turns to Amanda while Dirk scribbles on the Post-It. “So, are you staying long?” 

“Not sure! We’re thinking maybe three weeks, ish? Whatever happens happens.” 

“Do you have a place to stay?”

“Oh, of course! I’m staying with Dirk.”

Amanda turns to Dirk as he makes a disgruntled noise, and therefore completely missing the way Farah purses her lips and how Todd’s hands clench into fists unconsciously before he can pull them back to normal.

“These are much harder to stick to skin than they should be,” he complains.

“You’re trying to stick it onto his nose,” Amanda points out with a grin. “Forehead. That way even if it falls off, it goes past his eyes and he notices.”

“Ah.” Dirk does so and stands. “Brilliant. Thank you, Amanda.”

“Hey, so, where are we?” Todd feels only a little guilty for directing the conversation away from Dirk and Amanda possibly trading compliments for a while. They’re both pretty compliment heavy individually. He can’t imagine what they’d be like in relation to each other and he definitely isn’t up for dealing with hearing that. “We got here through a secret passage, so our car is way behind.”

“Oh, I know exactly where we are,” Farah cuts in. “I came through here once. There’s a diner about twenty minutes away, if we walk.”

“Come on, then!” Dirk always feels the need to lead the way in non-dangerous situations even if he has no idea what direction to go in. Todd’s fond smile at the observation evaporates when his sister links her and Dirk’s arms.

“Dude, secret passages,” Todd hears her say excitedly as they walk ahead of them. “You have to tell me all about it.”

Farah leans into Todd’s space as the two of them walk behind. “Are they always like that?”

Todd tries to keep his voice as neutral as possible. “Whenever I see them in the same place at the same time, yeah.”

“Ah.” Farah probably thinks her face is as neutral as possible, too. “Good to know. That is definitely, definitely good to know, just, good information to have. Good. It’s all very good.”

Todd decides to change the subject. “So, is he actually going the right way?” 

“Kind of surprisingly, yeah.”

“Give it time. He’ll get us turned around somehow.”

Farah laughs and Todd smiles a little, feeling a glimmer of happiness in his more kind of terrible feelings. He sees Amanda glance over her shoulder at them, and before she turns back, he thinks he sees a hint of that same upset look Dirk’s been carrying around lately.

 

Dirk and Amanda slide into their side of the booth and Todd and Farah slide into theirs. Todd’s feet ache and Farah looks exhausted. Amanda stretches her legs out far enough that Farah jerks a little, leading Todd to believe she’s probably hit her by accident. Even Dirk looks a little wilted.

“Can we make a pact to never walk again?” Amanda asks. “Any of us? Ever?” 

“Segways,” Dirk says with a sage nod. “We’ll all get segways.”

Todd shakes his head. “We’re not getting a segways. Or,” he adds, when Dirk opens his mouth. “Hoverboards.”

“How else are we supposed to get around if we never walk again if you veto segways and hoverboards?”

“Hoverboards have a tendency to light on fire, Dirk.”

“They’re also not really hoverboards,” Farah points out. “They don’t hover. They don’t line up with the situation laid out by _Back to the Future II_ at all. Really, they’re just lies on wheels.”

Everyone stares at Farah. She shuffles awkwardly. “I like the _Back to the Future_ movies,” she mumbles.

The waitress comes, takes their drink orders, and disappears again. Farah unzips a pocket in her jacket and pulls out a rock. It’s not a particularly exceptional looking rock, which kind of makes Todd wonder why she’s got it. Farah swallows and looks hesitantly at Amanda.

“I, um.”

Amanda rests her chin in her hands. “Whatcha got there?”

Farah looks kind of like she’s bracing herself to go into battle. She speaks again, voice sounding a bit steadier than before this time and face looking a little more determined.

“I remembered how you mentioned when you were a kid, you used to collect rocks whenever you went on trips with your family.”

Todd blinks. He’d completely forgotten about that, Amanda insisting on delaying them even at rest stops to see if she could find a rock from wherever they stopped. Amanda looks startled enough that he feels it’s safe to say she’d forgotten she’d told Farah.

“Yeah, I did.”

“So I thought maybe you’d like one from Buenos Aires, too. I mean. You probably don’t collect them anymore. So maybe not, I don’t have to-“

“No,” Amanda says quickly. “No, I want it. Please.”

Farah passes the rock to Amanda. Todd notices her hand brushes Amanda’s a little longer than it maybe has to, but once Farah notices that, it gets withdrawn and quickly shoved into her pocket, like maybe she’s worried she’ll try and grab Amanda’s hand with her own.

Again, it’s not an exceptional rock. But Amanda gazes at it like Farah has delivered the Holy Grail right into her hands.

“Thanks, Farah,” she tells her softly, turning the rock over and over in her hands. “I like it  a lot.”

Farah smiles, a hint of trembling in her voice. “You’re welcome.”

Amanda reclines until her back hits the seat of the booth. She leans her head into Dirk’s shoulder and he almost absently puts an arm around her while he surveys the menu, her fingers still playing with the rock, a faint smile on her lips.

The waitress comes back with their drinks and puts them down, fortunately meaning that the bitter taste in Todd’s mouth does not turn into bitter words. He doesn’t look at Farah. He doesn’t think either of them could keep it together if they did.

They all make their orders, Farah last, ordering the French toast with strawberries and whipped cream. The waitress smiles at her a little differently than she does the rest of them.

“Nice choice,” she tells Farah. “That’s my favorite, too.” She winks at Farah and walks away. Farah gapes after her.

“I, I.” She starts stuttering even though the waitress is no longer there and cannot see or hear her. “I don’t, uh, I’m not sure, I can’t tell…” she trails off. “I don’t know what just happened.”

Todd struggles to keep his face straight. “A pretty girl just smiled and winked at you, Farah. It’s been known to happen to people.”

“Not… not to me, very often.”

Todd seriously doubts that, considering that even though he’s not attracted to her anymore, he can appreciate the fact that she’s beautiful. More likely is that Farah doesn’t notice it unless they’re being obvious like the waitress just was. “Maybe they’d do it more, if you didn’t react like this when they do.”

Farah glares at Todd, who can’t keep the deadpan thing going anymore. He turns his head and snorts.

“Shut up. This isn’t funny.” 

“No, of course not.”

“It _isn’t_.”

Todd bumps her shoulder with his to mollify her. It seems to work, because she tones down her glare. “Get her number. Ask her out.”

“Absolutely not.” 

“Why?”

“I don’t ask girls out when they’re working.”

This is a fair answer. He does grin at her a little bit, though.

“If we ever take a case with a pretty girl, you’re barred from coming with us.”

“I wouldn’t go with you anyway,” she retorts. “Because I am not a member of your detective agency, I am a-“

“Benefactor, yeah, no, I got it.”

Todd notices Amanda and Dirk staring at them. It’s a weird kind of staring, but not the same weird kind as Dirk was giving them before. Mostly it seems to be blank shock.

“You guys okay?” Todd asks. They quickly school their face into a nonchalance that seems painfully over-casual.

“Yup.”

“Yeah.” 

“For sure.”

“Definitely a sure thing.” 

“Absolutely.”

“No problems.”

Farah and Todd share a look, but don’t push the issue.

The waitress brings them their food and they eat it, idly chatting about cases and what Amanda’s been up to with the Rowdy Three since the last time they saw each other. Mostly about destroying things, which is a recurring theme in Amanda’s Rowdy Three stories. Dirk and Amanda have perked up significantly, Dirk seemingly back to normal and Amanda’s face no longer bearing any glimpse of the weirdness he saw when they were walking. Todd’s not exactly sure what changed things, but he welcomes it.

When they receive their copy of the receipt, the waitress slides it to Farah with another smile. Farah takes it, looking kind of baffled. She doesn’t examine it until they’re out of the diner, when she stops dead, frowning at the receipt. Todd stops with her.

“What, did they overcharge us?”

“No.” Her voice is odd enough that Dirk and Amanda, who’d been walking ahead a little while discussing a bus vs a cab to get them back home, stop and turn around to look at the two of them. Todd looks over Farah’s shoulder.

The name Amber, along with a hastily scrawled telephone number, is in ballpoint pen on the back of the receipt.

“Holy shit, she left you her number.”

In the corner of his eye, Todd sees Amanda twitch. He glances to her briefly to see Dirk take her hand and squeeze it. Todd squashes the feelings that come with that so he can focus on Farah. There’s nothing he can do about the two of them.

This is of course not true; Todd could do a lot to try and stop the two of them. But even Todd isn't that much of an asshole, especially when he wants them both to be happy, so it comes down to there’s not a lot Todd _will_ do to try and stop the two of them.

The point is, Farah’s his best friend. So right now Farah comes first.

“You didn’t ask her for it,” Todd points out, a little quieter than normal. “Means you weren’t bothering her while she was working. You’re in the clear, if you want to.”

Farah moves from foot to foot. Her hand goes up to her hair and back down. She bites  her lip.

“I don’t think I want to,” she barely whispers to Todd, the other two clearly not meant to hear. Her eyes flicker in Dirk and Amanda’s direction. Todd knows she takes in their hands by how quickly her eyes flit back. “Even considering certain factors.”

Todd gets it. He’d probably have the same reaction, even with the negatives in his favor. “Then you don’t have to.”

Farah nods and throws the number in the trash can. “She was nice, though.” 

“She was.”

Dirk and Amanda turn back ahead, back to trying to figure out what mode of transportation they should take. They’re no longer joined by the hand, Todd thinking he might have seen him let go of her out of the corner of his eye right after Farah tossed the number.

 

“The problem is,” Farah tells Todd, then pauses again.

They’re sitting on Todd’s couch. Todd’s tipsy enough that the personal space rule he tends to have in place (except, somehow, when it comes to Dirk, which Todd suspects has less to do with his feelings regarding Dirk and more to do with Dirk not giving a shit about personal space) is immaterial, meaning that Farah stretching her legs across his lap don’t bother him in the slightest, one of his arms absently stretched across them and the other loosely holding onto them. Farah’s tipsy enough that she’s willing to talk about herself and feelings, which, even if she’s been trying to articulate what the unknown problem is for the past two minutes unsuccessfully, is still impressive.

Dirk and Amanda are upstairs in Dirk’s apartment, which may or may not directly connect to their mild inebriation, even if neither of them have admitted it out loud.

“The problem is,” Farah starts again. “The problem is. That they are _happy_.”

Ah, so that’s where they are. Todd decides if they’re talking about this they’re talking about this and points in vigorous agreement.

“ _Yes_. Yes. This is the problem.”

Farah hangs her head so it rests over the end of Todd’s couch. “Your sister’s so nice,” she tells Todd. Todd snorts, not sure the word “nice” is one he necessarily would apply to his sister. Then he feels guilty because Amanda _is_ nice, he’s just bitter and even if she can’t _hear_ him being an asshole, he’s still trying not to be. Farah doesn’t seem to notice, plowing on ahead. “She’s _so_ nice. And she’s so smart. And she’s really funny. And she gives great hugs. And she smells nice. And-“

Todd’s vigorous pointing finger becomes his vigorous halting finger, even though Farah can’t see it. “I’m gonna stop you right there cause I don’t think I want to hear any more about this.”

Farah nods thoughtfully. “That’s fair.” She returns the position of hanging her head back. “You can tell me your list, if you want,” she tells the ceiling. “I don’t mind.”

“It’s not really…” Todd trails off. There is kind of a list. But it’s a very convoluted list. “It’s like… it’s like things.”

“Lists contain things.”

“ _No_.” He’s not doing this very well. He’s not sober. Which is an excuse. But he’s still not happy. “ _Things_. Like. Like okay. He’s doing this. This thing with his hair.”

“I noticed.” 

“Yeah.”

“I didn’t think he had that many jackets.”

“He didn’t. He bought them to coordinate with the hair chalk set he bought.”

Farah’s head comes back up. She slides a little further down so her head’s now resting on the end of the couch and she can keep looking at Todd without having to use her neck. Todd accommodates for the additional shift in her legs. “Really?”

“Yeah, I asked him about it.” Dirk had shifted and said he’d liked the idea of matching. Todd had been a little disbelieving, but kind of amused in spite of himself. When Dirk had noticed, he’d grinned a little bashfully. It had been one of the numerous instances that Dirk had been one of those words Todd attempts to avoid using even in his head when he’s without alcohol in his system, namely, adorable. Todd gets lost enough dwelling on this that it takes a sharp jab from Farah’s finger to bring him back to reality. “Ow. What?”

“So this thing with his hair.”

“This thing with his hair.” Todd remembers. “This thing with his hair! So he keeps changing it. And clients keep coming in, and, you know, they keep looking at him strange. And at first it was funny! But then it wasn’t. Cause, you know, they’re not looking at him _strange_. They’re looking at him like he’s a _freak_. And they can’t… they shouldn’t. They come to him and they’re like ‘wow, what a weirdo, I’m gonna hire him, but I’m gonna look down on him’. And I don’t like that. So I want to fight them.” Todd taps a finger on the rim of his beer bottle. “I want to fight everyone who’s ever made Dirk feel like the way they look at him,” he admits quietly.

Farah considers this.

“You’re just as screwed as I am,” she finally observes. Todd has to agree, giving her a little nod and grunt. “So we both have lists and they are both very happy together. What… how do those two things…” Farah can’t seem to find the words, so she smashes her hands together and makes the sound of an explosion by mashing her lips together and blowing. Todd gets her.

“Probably just like that, if we did anything.”

Farah groans loudly. “I hate caring about their happiness,” she mutters. Todd’s inclined to agree.

 

The thing is, Todd _does_ care about their happiness. And he doesn’t know how subtle he is, because try as he might when it comes to containing his jealousy over the two of them, Amanda is Amanda, and she knows all his tells. He also doesn’t know for certain if she’d care about his place in all this when it comes to how he feels, but he thinks they’re on stable enough footing that she would at least not want him to be unhappy.

So as much as he dreads it, he’s got to have this conversation with her.

Todd invites Amanda to his apartment a few nights after his drinking session with Farah. He cooks them cheeseburgers and he refuses to let her help with the dishes. He can feel her eyes on him while he washes them.

When he’s put the last dish in the rack, she finally speaks. “Okay, dude. What’s going on?”

“What do you-“

“What I _mean_ is you just made me my favorite thing that you cook and didn’t let me do any of the washing, which I’m pretty sure you get a kick out of me doing every time you make me dinner.”

Todd winces a little. Again, she knows all of his tells. “I’ve… been thinking. About some stuff.”

She folds her arms and waits, clearly not going to make this easy for him.

“I know that within… our friend circle, there are… feelings. Coming from you. Romantic ones. For another one of the friend circle.”

Amanda’s eyes go huge. “It’s that obvious?” she asks, her voice very weak. A laconic _well, yeah_ is on the tip of Todd’s tongue until he sees how small she looks all of the sudden, and he reigns it back in at the least moment.

“Um, yes. Kind of. A lot. Yes.”

Amanda sinks in her chair a little, arms getting even tighter around her body. “Oh. I didn’t realize.”

“But, hey, look, it’s okay.” Todd kneels in front of her chair because she’s suddenly attached her gaze to the floor and he wants her to be able to see him for this. “Hey, look at me.” She does. “I just want you guys to be happy, okay, and I don’t want you to have to worry about-about anything, so…” and here it comes, the really hard part, the one that’s going to seal the deal. “So it’s all right. From me. As long as you guys are happy, it’s all right from me. Okay?”

Amanda looks a little confused. But she nods. “Okay.”

Todd can practically hear the slamming of the coffin and the hammering of the nail. He pushes a smile forth. “Okay.”

“I just…” Amanda looks down. “I didn’t think anyone noticed. I didn’t think you noticed. You didn’t give any sign of noticing.”

Oh god, what is he supposed to say to that? _I’ve definitely noticed and it’s definitely killing me but I’m willing for it to continue to do so_? He doesn’t have a good answer to this. Fortunately, he doesn’t seem to have to, because she’s started mumbling to herself a little. He can pick out the words “so wonderful” and “really nice” and “super cool”. He steels himself. This reads a little cruel, even considering how damaged their relationship has been. He had thought they might have been passed stuff like this.

“Does…” he can’t bring himself to say his name. “Does the… interested party… know?” Amanda shakes her head. _That_ seems a little surprising. “No. I can’t bring myself to do  it. Too chicken.”

That’s surprising, too. “You’ve never been too chicken before.” Todd still remembers Amanda marching up to Howie Anderson in her freshman year in the halls to loudly ask him out, which both her and Todd agreed could have been handled much better.

“This time is different.”

“Yeah.” Todd rocks back on his heels a little. “Yeah, I can see how that would be.” 

“I just.” Her hands fly up and then back down. “I just don’t want to fuck this up, you know? Cause we’re friends now, and that’s great, and I like that, a lot and I would like… the other thing, a lot more, and I just, _ugh_.” She puts her head in her hands. “I don’t know what to do,” he can hear, albeit a little muffled.

Oh, god. She wants _advice_. Is she deliberately pushing him? Todd swallows. “I’m sure if you just… stated your intentions it would be received… favorably.” Why is he talking like a robot? Why can’t he talk like people do?

“Yeah.” Amanda raises her head and looks off to the side. “God, just. She’s just so _cool_ , you know? She’s just so cool. I don’t know what I’m supposed to do about how cool she is.”

Wait. 

Hold on.

Back up a second.

“ _She_?” Todd asks aloud. 

Amanda blinks. “Well, yeah. Of _course_ she.”

“What do you mean, she?”

Amanda looks even more confused. “I mean she, what do _you_ mean, what do you mean,  she?”

Todd’s sure he’s been this bewildered before but he can’t recall any time off the top of his head. “Who are you talking about?”

“I’m talking about Farah, who are _you_ talking about?” 

“ _Farah_? I thought- I was talking about Dirk!”

“ _What_? Why would you think _Dirk_?”

Todd flaps his hands. “You stay at his apartment!” 

“His is nicer than yours!”

“You two are always touching!” 

“We’re both physically affectionate!” 

“You have none of your usual tells!” 

“I _told_ you, this time is different!”

_Farah_. So much starts making sense. How the smiles that Farah gets are a little happier and warmer than everyone else’s. How touched she’d seemed by Farah’s gift of the rock. How troubled she’d been at the waitress leaving her number. Even if Amanda’d had none of her usual traits she carries when she’s normally into someone, it still all adds up.

Slowly, it dawns on Todd that he has just tipped his hand in a big way, and Amanda might connect the dots on this and he might not be able to have an answer that’ll let him escape the corner he’s backed himself into.

“You knew I wasn’t straight, this shouldn’t surprise you as much as it does.” 

“I just… I really thought it was Dirk.”

“Well, if it makes you feel any better, Dirk and I totally thought you and Farah were a thing until like three days ago when you encouraged her to hit on that waitress.”

“ _Really_?’ Todd considers it. “I guess that makes sense, actually. That’s why he grabbed your hand? Cause you were freaking out about her getting the number?”

“Yeah.”

“And he was so weird around the two of us because he didn’t know how to act between us as a couple?”

“I…” Amanda seems a little lost for words at that one. Todd doesn’t blame her. It’s a very words-losing situation. “Yes?”

“Oh. Okay.”

Amanda’s eyes narrow then, in that way they do when she’s watching a mystery and has figured out who did it, or when she’s sussing out Todd’s bullshit, and Todd is abruptly aware that he’s absolutely fucked.

“Why does Dirk enter into it?”

“I…” Todd flounders. “Refuse to answer on the grounds that it may incriminate me?” Amanda’s face suggests she’s not having it. Todd sighs and feels his shoulders slump. “I might… be a little into Dirk.”

“A little?”

“A lot… more than a little.”

Amanda studies him. “I didn’t know,” she says quietly. “I couldn’t see the normal signs in  you.”

“Yeah, well.” Todd knows the smile that twists his face is a little bitter. “This time is different.”

Amanda gets off her chair and sits across from Todd on the floor. “Are you gonna tell him?”

“No,” he says quickly. “No, I’m absolutely not.” 

“Why not?”

It’s Todd’s turn to cross his arms.

“Even if Dirk felt the same way, which he doesn’t,” he mutters. “He deserves better than a lying asshole who’s done some shitty things.”

Amanda’s quiet while she thinks about it. Todd sits in his misery.

“I’m not gonna deny you’re an asshole sometimes,” she eventually says. “And that you’ve been a lying asshole, which fucking sucks. But since you’ve met Dirk, you’re not really lying as much anymore, or about the big things. So you _lie_ sometimes, and you’re an _asshole_ sometimes, but you’re not a _lying asshole_. And yeah, you’ve done some really shitty things. But you’re at least trying to make up for it.”

Todd’s already got his biggest secret out. He might as well ask the other frightening question always lurking in him. “Do you forgive me?”

Amanda tilts her head.

“I don’t know,” she admits. “That was some pretty big bullshit you pulled. That’s a lot to work through. But… you’re still my brother. And I still love you. And I don’t hate you anymore, and I tend to like you more than I dislike you.”

That’s better than Todd deserves, so he’ll take it.

“And I really think you should maybe consider bringing this up to Dirk. It might not be as disastrous as you’re imagining.”

Todd doesn’t tell Amanda that Dirk doesn’t feel the same way, that Dirk’s overwhelming affection and enthusiasm is dispensed equally to all of them, and that the manner in which he acts to Todd is the same as everyone else. He doesn’t tell her that telling Dirk would only make things awkward, and that he might even have to leave the detective agency. He doesn’t want to go further into this.

“You should do the same with Farah,” he says instead. “You have an advantage, you at least know she likes girls.”

Amanda shrugs awkwardly. “I’ll think about it.” She moves over so she’s sitting up against the back of the couch, still on the floor. She gestures and Todd sits next to her. They’re silent for a while after that, Todd’s head ending up on Amanda’s shoulder.

“I won’t tell Farah about everything we talked about tonight,” he says at some point. “And you can’t tell Dirk.”

“Of course not.” His sister’s arm has found its way around his shoulders, resting loosely against his neck. “We’re Brotzmans. We keep each other’s secrets.”

 

After Amanda leaves, Todd texts Farah. Brotzmans keep each other’s secrets, but the nature of Dirk and Amanda’s relationship is not a secret, and he did say _everything_ , not nothing. Not the bit that might make her feel better enough, anyway.

_Amanda and Dirk aren’t dating._

He gets a response thirty seconds later. Todd’s a little surprised. It’s pretty late at this point. Then again, this is a pretty important and relevant to them kind of a text.

_Are you sure?_

_Amanda found the whole idea pretty ridiculous, so yeah, I’m sure._

A minute passes until the next text.

_Good._

 

There’s something wrong with Dirk and Todd can’t tell what.

He seems troubled and kind of stiff. There’s definitely something a little wooden about him when he’s around Todd. Every time he asks if he’s okay, he waves it off and moves on to something about the case they’re working on. Todd’s extremely frustrated and beyond anxious about the whole thing. It’s very unlike Dirk.

_Do you think he’s getting ready to go back to Britain_? Todd texts Farah after three days of this, a question he’s been thinking about a lot but is too frightening to voice aloud, the kind of question that has to be confined to text. _Do you think he’s going to leave us_? He stares at the last part of that text for a while, finally putting “us” where he’d had “me”, because the second option isn’t fair to the other two of their agency (because Amanda is basically an honorary member at this point, even if she comes and goes) and is too revealing, even when Farah already knows everything.

She doesn’t answer for another ten minutes or so. He’s not surprised. It’s a big one.

_We’ll cross that bridge if we come to it._

Todd knows Farah well enough to read the pain in that brisk evasion, the idea that this little group they’ve built up might be fractured, and he regrets sending her the question.

 

Todd and Dirk are running, because that’s a surprising amount of their job these days. If he wasn’t trying to be as careful with his money, he’d seriously consider a gym membership.

This time, they’re trying to outrun a bunch of money launderers who for some reason have a van and crossbows. Fortunately not electrified ones, but a crossbow is still a crossbow, and Todd can’t believe he’s at a point in his life where he’s grateful that the crossbows that are being pointed at him aren’t as bad as they could be.

They’re heading down the road, which is quiet and abandoned, no one to hear the sound of their footsteps thundering along.

“I think we lost them,” Todd gasps, slowing to a halt. “I think we’re good.”

Dirk grabs onto one of Todd’s arms to steady himself. His hand feels very warm through his plaid shirt. “We should,” he pants. “We should call Farah and Amanda. Tell them, tell them we found the Iversons.”

“I’ll do it, just two seconds.” Todd’s lungs are burning. He feels exhausted and wobbly. “I just need two seconds.”

Dirk looks at him in concern. “Are you going to be okay?”

“Yeah.” He gives Dirk a crooked grin. “I might die a little bit. But I’ll be okay.”

A smile flits across Dirk’s face, until it’s shuttered and Dirk’s returned to that almost formal state he’s started using around Todd. He lets go of Todd’s arm.

Todd’s tired. His legs feel like they might give from under him. For four days, Dirk’s been acting so stiff that Todd may as well be a stranger. Not even that, perhaps, because Dirk will ask strangers personal questions like they’re old friends, but he’s definitely on edge around Todd.

He’s hurt. He’s worried. He misses Dirk.

The point is, he’s fucked up enough that his brain shuts his filter down. 

“What did I do?” he asks. Dirk blinks.

“Sorry?”

“The way you’ve been acting the past few days. I’ve noticed. You don’t do this with Farah or with Amanda, so it’s got to be me. So what did I do?”

Dirk stares at him. He opens his mouth to say something that’s probably going to break Todd somehow.

Tires scream to a stop behind them and they turn around to see the back door of the van belonging to the crossbow wielding, money laundering, generally motherfuckers Iverson brothers fly open.

“We only need the mouthy one!” Todd hears one of them yell. Two of them grab at Dirk, hauling him back towards the van.

“Dirk!” Todd moves towards them. He doesn’t know how he’ll stop them, they’re bigger than he is, and the third one’s in front of him, wielding a pipe, and there’s no possible way he can win this, _but they cannot take Dirk_.

This is his last thought, before he sees the third one raise the pipe and bring it down in a way that vaults him into utter blackness.

Todd wakes up in the middle of the road, alone, his head a little sticky from where the pipe collided with it.

He screams loudly at the top of his lungs. No one is around to hear him, and he can’t think of another way to express all the emotions he’s feeling. So he yells until his throat is hoarse.

 

Then he calls Farah.

 

“We know where they live,” Todd points out, pacing in Farah’s apartment. Farah’s apartment is considerably nicer than Todd or Dirk’s, with much better furniture that Todd can’t bring himself to sit on, despite Amanda pointing out that he’d just been whacked on the head and probably shouldn't be moving. He can’t sit, though. He can’t stop moving. “We know where they are. We can go after them.”

“There are three of us, and there’ll be at least six of them because we know they’ve hired three private security members,” Farah counters. “They have the more muscle.”

“I don’t care,” Todd mutters. “I don’t care.” 

“Todd, sit down.”

“I-“

_“Todd, sit down.”_

Todd obeys at the change in Farah’s voice, sitting on the couch next to Amanda. Farah pulls up a stool and sits across from Todd. She’s tall enough on it that he has to look up at her.

“Our numbers are bad,” she says clearly. “We would require significant backup. You need to calm down.”

Todd swallows and looks at Amanda.

“I don’t want to ask…” he trails off. He does want to ask. Amanda seems to know the question anyway.

“Absolutely, I’ll call the boys.” Amanda looks at Farah. “The Rowdy Three were talking about swinging through here for a couple days anyway. They’re nearby. I just have to call.”

Farah considers. This may only add one extra to the amount of people on their side vs. the Iversons, but the Rowdy Three always seems to count like an army per person.

“Okay,” Farah says finally. “Call them. Have them let us know when they get here. I have weapons. We’ll head out then.”

Amanda stands up, patting Todd’s shoulder once before she takes out her phone and heads to make the call. Farah moves the stool and crouches across from Todd.

“Todd,” she says quietly. “Dirk’s going to be all right.”

“He was right there.” Todd can’t stop fidgeting with his hands. “They took him and he was _right there_. I couldn’t get him.”

“This isn’t your fault.” 

“I couldn’t get him.”

“Did you try?” 

“Yes.”

“Then you did what you could.” 

“It wasn’t enough.”

Farah puts a hand on the back of Todd’s head and draws him in until his forehead is leaning against her shoulder.

“You did what you could,” she repeats. “And we’re going to get him back.” 

Amanda comes back. “Fifteen minutes,” she tells them. “Gripps says be ready.”

 

The inside of the Rowdy Three’s van is somehow exactly how Todd pictured it. He’s not dwelling on it too much now, a crowbar clenched firmly in his hands. They’re all sitting in silence, even the Rowdy Three, who have to be able to sense how tense and worried they all are.

Amanda is sitting across from Todd and next to Farah, both of whom look drawn and harrowed. Amanda’s hand raises slightly, stills, and then reaches over to take Farah’s, interlacing their fingers. Farah looks at her in surprise. Amanda smiles tentatively at her. Farah returns the hesitant expression.

“When-“ Amanda clears her throat. “When this is over, we should talk. About stuff.” 

Farah’s smile becomes more hopeful. She clearly tries to shove it down.

“Yes,” she agrees. “That would be good. That talking.”

Amanda nestles her head onto Farah’s shoulder. Farah squeezes her hand. Todd’s head is an exhausting swirl of fear and sadness, but he does feel a twinge of happiness, somewhere in there.

Good. He’s glad they’re getting their shit together.

 

The Iversons, as it turns out, have hired six personal security guys. The Rowdy Three seem untroubled by this hike in odds, and in the resulting chaos Todd, Farah, and Amanda goes to check the basement, Todd still holding onto his bat.

The basement has a clumsy cell constructed that makes Todd think of where they were kept in that very first case, when Dirk had been shot with a crossbow. Dirk is slumped against the wall inside of it. One of the Iverson brothers is there, probably so pale from hearing the commotion upstairs. He immediately stands up and puts his hands up.

“Don’t kill me,” he whimpers.

“Key,” Farah says flatly, waving her gun for emphasis. “Now.”

He hands Amanda the key, hand shaking. She unlocks the cell and Todd rushes in. “Dirk? Can you hear me?”

Dirk opens his eyes and blinks at Todd. There’s something wrong. Dirk’s face is a little dreamy, eyes hazy.

“Todd?”

“Yeah, it’s me, Dirk, what’s happened, are you okay?” 

“Why…” Dirk wets his lips. “Why are you here?” 

“Because we came to get you.” Dirk’s hair is for once back to his normal shade. He hadn’t done it before he’d been running with Todd. Todd pushes some of the auburn strands out of Dirk’s eyes. “We’ll always come to get you.” Farah and Amanda are interrogating the Iverson brother down here with them, so they won’t hear. Todd lets down his guard, lowers his voice, and speaks to Dirk as heartfelt as possible. “ _I_ will always come to get you.”

Dirk blinks sluggishly again. Todd wonders if any of his words are even registering. “Oh. That’s nice. I didn’t think you liked me.”

Todd’s startled. Out of all the possible reasons that Dirk could have been standoffish around him, ranging from Todd somehow being an asshole about something important to Dirk to Dirk leaving because of him to Dirk realizing that Todd is in fact a asshole no matter what he’s said to the contrary, to Dirk thinking that Todd didn’t like him had not even entered into it. He may be stunned, but feels he needs to say something. He doesn’t have to, as it turns out, because Dirk’s head lolls to the side as he lapses into unconsciousness.

“Dirk?” Todd grabs for his wrist and finds his pulse, so he’s definitely still alive. The swooping terror is replaced by blinding rage. He stands and leaves the cell, turning to the Iverson brother, who goes even whiter, presumably at the look on his face.

“Todd,” Amanda says quickly. “Todd, it’s fine, they just drugged him, nothing that’s going to kill him, he’s just a little clouded over right now-“

“He wouldn’t stop talking!” Iverson yelps. “He wouldn’t stop talking, and we needed to shut him up quick, come on, like you’ve never been tempted-“

Todd storms past his sister and Farah and punches Iverson in the nose as hard as he possibly can.

“Todd!” Farah yells as Iverson staggers back.

“It’s fine,” he tells her. “Don’t worry. I’m not going to do anything like that again.” 

“It’s fine?” Iverson howls. “You broke my nose!” 

“You deserve worse,” Todd answers coldly. He’s a naturally angry person, but he’s never been this pissed. Not once in his life. He wants to take every Iverson brother apart piece by piece. “I’m not going to do any of it to you. But you deserve so much worse.”

He steps close to Iverson, gets right in his face. He can smell the blood from his nose. “If you come after us again,” he says, as calmly but menacingly as possible. “If you come  after our client, I won’t have the same approach. Do you understand me?” 

Iverson swallows. “Yup. Crystal clear.”

Todd turns back to the cell. He leans down and picks Dirk up. He’s a lot lighter than he expected. Dirk stirs a little. He looks up at Todd a little blearily.

“Todd?”

“Hey. Do you remember that the three of us are here?” 

He nods then winces. “That hurt.”

“Then don’t do it again.” Dirk looks like he’s drifting. “Dirk. I need you to hang in there for me. Put your arms around my neck. It’s gonna make it easier for me to get you out of here.”

“Okey doke.”

Dirk wraps his arms around Todd’s neck. Todd tries to ignore that it feels nice. This isn’t the time or place.

Todd carries Dirk up the stairs a little slowly. “Do you want help?” Farah asks.

“No. I’ve got him.”

The Rowdy Three have taken care of the other Iverson brothers, so they head to the van. Todd gently deposits Dirk in the van and sits next to him.

“Can I slumber now?”

Todd’s a little amused that even drugged, Dirk’s got words in his vocabulary like slumber. Then he’s pissed that he’s drugged in the first place all over again. “Yeah,” he answers, keeping the anger from entering his tone. “You can slumber.”

“Oh, good. I was going to anyway.” Dirk’s head comes to rest on his shoulder. Todd’s hand hovers for a second, then he starts running his fingers through Dirk’s hair. It’s calming. He doesn’t take his eyes off Dirk the entire time.

When they arrive back at the Ridgely, Todd has to wake up Dirk again. The stairs are steeper than at the Iversons’s house and the elevator hasn’t worked in the whole time he’s lived here.

“Dirk, wake up. I need you to at least try to walk with me.” Todd’s never heard his own voice sound this gentle. It kind of surprises him. It definitely surprises Amanda and Farah, who look disbelieving, especially Amanda, no doubt because she’s known him her whole life and would therefore know better than Farah how unusual this is.

“Hmmm. I really don’t want to.”

“I know. But I need to get you to be resting, and I can’t do that if you don’t help me out.” Dirk hums again, but he makes at least a token effort. Todd ends up doing most of the work because Dirk’s still a little stumbly. But he gets him to his apartment. Dirk’s is a floor above and Todd doesn’t think he can get him up another flight.

He deposits Dirk on his bed. “You can go back to sleep now,” he tells him softly. 

Dirk looks up at him, a little foggy. “Will you be here when I wake up?”

He had really thought Todd didn’t like him. He takes a deep breath. “Yeah, Dirk. I’ll be here.”

“Okay.” Dirk falls asleep pretty much immediately. Todd turns to Farah and Amanda, fully aware he is the most vulnerable he’s ever been. To his relief, they’re not looking at him with any kind of pity or gentility, instead just looking at him as they always might.

“So, what’s the plan?” Amanda asks, looking between the two of them.

“I’m sleeping on the couch,” Todd tells them. “I’m pretty beat. What about you two?” 

“Farah and I are going to Dirk’s apartment. That way we’re close by if the Iversons come  back. I don’t think they will, though. Pretty sure you scared the crap out of that one in the basement in particular.”

Todd can’t help feeling a little pleased at that. 

“We are?” Farah looks startled.

“Yep. We are. We have stuff to talk about.”

“Don’t, uh.” Todd clears his throat. “Don’t do anything that might involve Dirk’s bed that means he might not want to sleep in it again.”

Farah’s eyes bulge. Amanda goes beet red.

“I’m going to kill you,” Amanda informs him. “Not even in your sleep. I’m going to do it when you’re awake, and I’m going to do it slowly.”

“That’s fair.”

Amanda takes Farah’s hand again. Farah looks a mixture between startled and awed. “Come on, Farah.”

Farah follows her out of the room. Todd closes the door behind them.

Todd fills a glass full of water, puts a straw in it, and puts it by Dirk’s bedside. He can’t remember the last time he ate, so he eats a granola bar. He pulls up the one blanket he’s got for the couch so he doesn’t have to disturb Dirk and falls asleep pretty quickly.

 

When Todd wakes up, the sunlight is streaming through the blinds, but there’s a hint of gray to it, so Todd’s pretty sure it’s early still. Dirk is still lying in bed, but the glass of water is empty and the straw is angled differently.

Todd shifts a little. Dirk hears it somehow, because he opens his eyes. They’re clear. 

“Hi,” he rasps a little.

“Hi. You think whatever they gave you is out of your system?”

“Yes. I’ve got a little buzz in the back of my head, but it’s not really unpleasant, just different.”

“That’s good.”

Dirk gets up and heads for the couch. He’s still a bit stumbly, but Todd’s pretty sure he can put it down to getting up for the first time in a while. Todd sits up so Dirk can sit next to him, which he does with a little “oof”.

“Thank you for coming to get me.” 

“I meant what I said. Always.”

Todd’s still feeling a little exposed. He doesn’t like being honest and sincere like this. It’s awkward, and makes him feel very uncomfortable. But he’s less uncomfortable than normal right now, and he’s got to have this conversation. He knows it’s important.

“Why did you think I didn’t like you?” 

Dirk sighs.

“Amanda breezed in one night about a week ago. Came through the door and the first thing she said was ‘guess what, I’m allowed to date you now’.”

Todd groans. “Great.”

“It was initially a confusing statement. But she told me you had this conversation with her, where you tried to tell her it was okay that the two of us were dating. And I asked her what your reaction to it was, and she sort of… struggled for a moment, like maybe she didn’t want to tell me, or was protecting me from some kind of truth she thought might hurt me, and said ‘kind of relieved, I think’. And I pretended it was okay, but it wasn’t, because I thought maybe you didn’t actually like me, that you never actually liked me, that maybe you got me out of There just because you didn’t want me to suffer because you were a good enough person, and then maybe I pushed you into working with me, and you just couldn’t find a loophole or a way out and you’re _such_ a good person, and you just didn’t want to upset me, and-“

Dirk’s speech is increasing in speed coming out, more and more worried with every word. Todd doesn’t even think about it, knows he won’t let himself. He takes Dirk’s hand, interlocking their fingers. Dirk abruptly stops talking. Todd does think now. He wants to say this as right as possible.

“I got you out of There because I didn’t want you to suffer,” he agrees. He feels Dirk flinch next to him. Fuck, he’s already screwing this up. “But it wasn’t because I felt a duty to do it. It was because you were my friend. The only time I was wrong about that was… on the pier, during the Patrick Spring case. The only time ever. And I didn’t come to work with you because you pushed me into it. I wanted to do it. I didn’t want to look for a way out, either. I still don’t. I want to keep working with you. I want to keep working with you for as long as you’ll let me, even though we keep getting kidnapped and chased by people who are armed and almost _always_ have guns because they are the least imaginative sons of bitches on the planet.”

Dirk laughs. It sounds a little choked.

“I like you.” This is going to be the rough part. He exhales and takes the plunge. “I like you a lot more than you think, and in a different way than you want.”

Dirk’s silent. Todd decides to keep going.

“When I was with that guy that drugged you, I was more furious than I’ve ever been in my life. I threatened more or less to make him wish he’d never been born. And I want to fight everyone who ever treated you poorly because of… what you can do, or because they thought you were weird, myself included. And when clients came and looked at your hair strangely, I glared at them the whole time. I wanted them to say something, because I wanted to rip into them for it.

“You still piss me off and drive me crazy sometimes, but that’s cause you’re human, and I’m a lot more bitter than you are and you’re a lot brighter than I am and those two things don’t always mix well. I think you’re good, right down to your bones, and you mean well even when you piss me off. I think you bear the things you can do well, even if you don’t always admit you can do them, considering you’ve been dealing with them your whole life, and There on top of that, twice. I’m glad when you smile. And when I thought you and Amanda were dating, I hated it, and I hated myself for hating it, because you’re so important to me and I love Amanda so much and all I wanted was to see the two of you happy, so I felt like such an asshole that you two were happy and I-“ It’s Todd’s turn to lose control of how fast his words are coming out, and  he’s saying too much and the stuff he’s saying is getting too personal, so he clamps his jaw shut. It feels like it’s the only way to stop himself from continuing to talk.

Dirk’s still silent for about a minute. Todd feels a little ill. He waits for Dirk to slip his hand out of Todd’s, to try and let him down gently. He wonders if he’ll manage it, or if he’ll botch it because he’s trying too hard. Maybe he’ll ask him to leave the agency. Maybe things will become so awkward that he’ll need to leave the agency of his own volition. He hopes Dirk asks Farah or Amanda to be his partner. Dirk needs a partner. He also hopes it’s either of them because the idea of anyone else working with Dirk makes his stomach churn. God, he really is such an asshole.

Dirk doesn’t take his hand away. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I wanted you in my life. I’m selfish enough that I was willing to avoid telling you the truth so I could keep having that. And I’m also just. I’m such a bastard, Dirk. I’m such an asshole sometimes. And you’re an asshole sometimes too, I’m not gonna lie, but I far outweigh you. And I don’t want you to have to deal with that. I really don’t want you to have to deal with that.”

“Why are you telling me now?”

“Because. I was so worried about you last night. I was so _goddamn_ worried, and it felt almost like tricking you, or a form of lying, and I’m trying not to lie to my friends or my sister anymore. So it felt important.”

Dirk mulls this over. At least, Todd suspects that he might be mulling. He wouldn’t know. He can’t look at his face. It doesn’t feel like a weight off his chest. Rather, it feels like the weight’s gotten heavier, almost crushing him.

“Did you notice,” he eventually asks. “When I thought you and Farah were dating, I was not myself?”

“Yeah. You weren’t subtle.”

“It wasn’t because of… it was because I felt the exact same way you described, about me and Amanda, when you thought we were together.”

Todd’s brain stutters to a halt. He can’t fully comprehend this, he thinks, can’t accommodate this new possibility in his head. He finally looks at Dirk, who’s staring off into space. Maybe he can’t look at Todd while saying all of this shit, either.

“And part of the worries I had when Amanda said that you were relieved wasn’t just because I thought that _you_ thought I wasn’t good enough for Amanda. It was because if you didn’t like me, I never had a chance. I never thought I had a chance in the first place, but this really eliminated any hope. I meant everything I just said. And this business about liking me a lot 

more than you should is… applicable to my own feelings as well. And yes, you have been and can be an asshole. But you’re trying not to be one anymore. I don’t think you’re a bigger bastard than I can be. I think you’re good, too, as you said, down to your bones. And I think if you’re willing to keep going when I’m an asshole, then I’m willing to keep going when you are, too.”

The flicker of hope has turned into a warmth spreading through Todd’s body. “I’m willing to keep going, too.”

“Oh. That’s…” Dirk squeezes Todd’s hand, a faint smile on his face. He finally looks at Todd, and he has that sensation again that Dirk may be slightly luminous, sort of like when he looked at him in the woods when they were searching for Patrick Spring’s pieces of the soul switcher almost a year ago, even if he hadn’t recognized that at the time. Todd grins back, feeling like he might be glowing a little himself. “That’s good.”

“Mmm.”

They continue smiling at each other, a little dopily. Todd is sure. He’s never felt so dopey in his life.

“I’m not sure how to proceed from here,” Dirk admits. “I’m not entirely good when it comes to feelings and this morning has been much more honest and full of emotions than I’m accustomed to, so-“

Todd tugs his hand out of Dirk’s so he can put it on his neck, guiding him into a kiss. Dirk’s surprised for a second or two, then responds, putting a hand in Todd’s hair and leaning a little closer. Todd gets a little closer too, until they’re nearly chest to chest.

The kiss is probably short, but it feels like forever to Todd, in the best possible way. They pull back, but Todd leaves his hand on the back of Dirk’s neck and Dirk leaves his in Todd’s hair.

“That-“ Dirk’s voice cracks a little. He clears his throat. “That was nice.” Todd smiles a little. “It was.”

“It’s entirely plausible that Amanda knew how I felt.”

“I figured that out.” Todd’s absently rubbing his thumb back and forth on Dirk’s neck. It seems to relax him even further. “She hesitated when I asked if you were so awkward around Farah and I because you didn’t really know how to handle the two of us dating and maybe you were feeling like a third wheel.”

“She knew about your feelings, I presume, because she said she was relieved, and that was the best she could get to the truth.”

“Yup. Brotzmans keep their secrets. Farah knew about it, too.”

“She and Farah need to get themselves together. They’re really very exhausting.”

“I’m pretty sure they’re doing that right now, Amanda’s been holding Farah’s hand and told her they needed to talk. They went up to your apartment because they wanted to stay close by in case the Iversons came back. Although she didn’t really think they would, because the Rowdy Three beat the two of them pretty badly and the third one almost definitely won’t have any interest in coming here.”

“Why wouldn’t he?”

“Oh. I, uh.” Todd flushes. “I might have… broken his nose pretty badly when I saw how fucked up you were and then proceeded to threaten and scare the shit out of him kind of intensely. A little more intensely than I might have mentioned earlier.”

“Oh. Um.” Dirk goes a little pink himself. “That’s a good thing for me to know. Just so I know that they’re not going to come after us. Excellent stuff to know.” He clears his throat. “Anyway, that’s good about Farah and Amanda. Their tension was unbearable.” Dirk wrinkles his nose. “They better not be using my bed for anything but sitting.”

Todd laughs. Dirk grins a little bit at that, looking vaguely astonished. Todd suspects it’s because he can’t quite believe this is happening. Todd resolves to make sure that Dirk doesn’t wear that look very often. “I said the exact same thing to them.”

“I’m sure that went down well.” 

“It did not.”

It’s Dirk’s turn to laugh. Todd has to return the sentiment with a grin of his own. Todd knows the word is painfully inadequate to describe everything that’s happening right now, but this is, as Dirk said, nice.

 

Later that afternoon, Todd and Amanda go to a restaurant for lunch.

“Nice to know that you got your shit together with Dirk” are the first words out of her mouth when they meet outside the restaurant.

“How could you possibly even know that?”

“Dirk texted me this morning with a lot of words misspelled. I think he was so excited he was accidentally keyboard smashing.” Her eyes glint wickedly all of the sudden. “Also, your hand is covered in the purple chalk he’s probably put on his hair by now.”

Todd looks at his hand and sees that she’s right. He flushes immediately.

He’s never been particularly physically affectionate. He absolutely never was that comfortable being touchy-feely with romantic partners, which had ended more than one relationship.

But this is different. They’ve spent the day in his apartment right up to Todd leaving to see Amanda, Dirk only vanishing to take a shower, change his clothes, and apply his hair chalk. Dirk’s been glued to his side all day, sitting next to him on the couch holding his hand while the two of them watched TV, sometimes putting his head on Todd’s shoulder. Todd’s kind of surprised that he doesn’t mind in the slightest. Then again, he’s maybe not all that shocked, because everything about this keeps surprising him.

He also seems to keep kissing Dirk. Hence, the chalk on his hand.

“You’re just glad that Farah doesn’t use it so you can’t get caught out” is Todd’s quick rebuttal.

_Aha_. Got her. Amanda goes a little pink. Todd grins smugly.

“Quit looking at me all pompously like that,” Amanda answers, but she’s kind of smiling at the same time, too.

“Nice to know that you got your shit together with Farah.” 

“Oh my God, you’re such a fucking dick.”

The lunch goes well. Amanda and Todd play off each other nicely, always have, their responses lightning quick when it comes to the other, and their recent relationship status developments only add to their banter. They part ways amicably, which is more than Todd could have asked for a year ago.

Todd heads back to his apartment, where Dirk’s still sitting on the couch, legs outstretched and feet resting on the coffee table, absorbed in an anthology of Shakespeare’s plays that he’s gotten from who knows where, Todd being pretty sure it’s not his.

“Can you believe I’ve never read Shakespeare before?” he asks without looking up. “It’s quite good. I get the hype.”

Todd kicks his shoes off and sits next to Dirk on the couch. “Yeah, there’s a reason people talk about him, you know.”

“You never know. I found Nathaniel Hawthorne to be extraordinarily overrated. I read all his books to make sure and just. Urgh.”

Todd grins. “You never read Shakespeare but you read Hawthorne?” 

“I have fallen into some very strange library habits.”

“Sounds like it.”

Dirk lowers his book slightly to beam sunnily at Todd. “Hello again.” 

Todd feels his grin soften to a smile. “Hello again.”

Dirk kisses him on the cheek. “You’re all out of tea.”

“That’s because I’m a coffee person. Never have tea.” 

Dirk gasps overdramatically. “Relationship over.” 

Todd snorts. “Yeah, sure.”

“I’m sorry, Todd, this is an inexcusable fact you’ve just revealed.”

“I threw a shoe at you when we met and _this_ is the inexcusable thing?” 

“ _Far_ worse than the shoe thing.”

Todd looks away so Dirk can’t see his grin. He probably gets the idea anyway.

Todd’s also fairly certain probably going to be grinning a lot more in the future, which he’s _definitely_ certain absolutely works for him.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm not kidding when I say that this is the fluffiest thing I've ever written. I can't think of anything moreso.
> 
> It occurred to me after writing this that the line where Dirk's a little dismissive about whether or not he would have liked a place to stay as well as food and clothes, it might seem that I felt similarly. Just wanted to throw out there that Dirk's priorities were a little wonky, and that I'm not trying to minimize that or anything.
> 
> The wonderful ri made the art for this entry in the Dirk Gently Beginner Bang! It's right here and it's amazing, and you should all go look at it.  
> https://dirtgentlyy.tumblr.com/post/160916243859/todds-also-fairly-certain-probably-going-to-be


End file.
